


Memories Turn Into Daydreams

by aNerdObsessed



Series: Post-TROS Fix-It Fics [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: An experiment in What Ifs, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Ben Solo is also an idiot, Post-TLJ, TROS Fix-It Before It Was Cool, Tros fix-it, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aNerdObsessed/pseuds/aNerdObsessed
Summary: Kylo Ren is tired of feeling alone and desperate to be free of this pain. He thinks he’s ready for change, to really let go of the past, but his last effort to convince Rey to join him goes about as well as his previous two attempts – actually it goes a whole lot worse.A canonverse one-shot





	Memories Turn Into Daydreams

**Author's Note:**

> _If you're a lover, you should know_   
_The lonely moments just get lonelier_   
_The longer you're in love_   
_Than if you were alone_   
_Memories turn into daydreams become a taboo_
> 
> House of Memories, Panic! At The Disco

He wasn't far away now.

Rey paused for a moment to catch her breath. He had stopped hiding. Not like he had been for months on end, feeling so distant she almost couldn't be sure it hadn't all been made up if not for the reports of the First Order wreaking havoc across the galaxy.

It was dark in the corridor, the damp smell of brine mixing with the metallic tang of rust. Her boots slipped on the slanted floor and she caught herself on the wall. A panel gave way under her hand, sending a resounding clang echoing through the decrepit structure.

_ Kriff. _ So much for keeping her approach quiet.

Still, he wanted her to find him. He hadn't moved for several hours.

It could be a trap, like Finn and Poe had said. Which, she had argued, is exactly why she had to go to him. He'd be there alone when she came to him because it was always personal with him. It could be their only direct shot at the Supreme Leader.

Rey crept forward, careful of loose floor panels and rusted holes. The sound of water - the steady tick of drops falling from the ceiling, the muffled roar of waves crashing against the wreckage, the faint whisper of mist flowing through gaping spaces - made it difficult to rely on her hearing for any sort of advance warning of when he'd appear. She was tempted again to pull the glowlamp ;from her belt, but somehow maintaining the illusion of stealth was more appealing. Her nerves were alight and every muscle was primed for action, although she wasn't sure if Kylo appeared before her right then if she would attack or flee.

She had no reason to run from him now. She was stronger than she been then, stronger than when they'd first fought in the frozen forest on Starkiller, stronger than when she'd sought out Luke Skywalker to teach her the ways of the Force, stronger than when she'd stood before Snoke to fight for the Light in Ben Solo.

Something vibrated softly on her wrist and Rey startled, letting a curse slip from her mouth. She gripped the cloaked binary beacon, regretting letting Leia and the boys convince her to take it. It had lost the signal, all the layers of durasteel and obsolete technology in the fallen Death Star interfering with the connection. A connection that could span lightyears, but apparently not a defunct Imperial era structure. Finn and Poe would be frantic.

Served them right for not trusting her to take of herself.

The crashing of waves grew louder and the shadows began to thin, allowing her to see more than a few steps ahead. He was near, very near.

The hair stood up on her arms. The Dark was strong here, swarming and feeding. She crept towards an opening in the corridor wall, climbing up the sloped floor towards the foggy glow. A cool breeze from outside ghosted past her, tugging at her tunic and brushing her cheek. Rey took her lightsaber in hand, readying herself to face whatever lay on the other side. 

Rey stepped through, blinking in the sunlight. The frothing sea lay just beyond the edge of the open space she found herself on, a nauseating undulation of water that stretched for kilometers to throw itself on a distant continent. A colossal wave rushed the platform where Rey had just arrived, peaking above her with a roar. In the moment before it crashed down, she thought of the inexplicable moments of the Force bond between her and Ben, how the sound had risen, peaked, and vanished, leaving just her and him alone to face the truth.

The water doused her with an icy cascade. She shrieked, stumbling back. When she pushed her sodden hair from her eyes, he stood before her, just as dripping wet as she was. 

Rey ignited her lightsaber, a pure sapphire beam leaping from her hand. 

"You came," Ben said. 

She watched him, her feet set in an open stance, waiting for him to make his move. The Force was still and quiet, not unlike during their bonded moments, giving them space to breathe, to be. 

But he didn't. He looked at her, dark locks plastered over the right side of his face, hiding the scar. His ears stuck out from his bedraggled hair, tipped in pink from the chilly air just like his nose. 

"Why'd you come?" he asked. He made no move towards his weapon, but Rey still held hers in front of her, the energy of the kyber giving her something firm with which to bolster her courage. 

"Why'd you wait?" Rey returned. The waves now weren't as ferocious as the first but just as greedy, scrabbling at the edge of the platform and soaking their boots. 

He moved forward, closer to her. She noticed a limp in his walk, how he favored his right knee. Rey let him approach, slowly, and his knee wobbled. Ben grunted in pain and the Dark leapt up around them, lapping greedily at his distress. He straightened. 

"I'm done," he answered, his voice taut. "I'm done with striving against a galaxy bent on destroying me. I surrender."

Rey blinked. "What?"

"I'm done," he repeated, his eyebrows drawing together. "I'm done with Vader's legacy, with the Skywalkers' legacy, the First Order, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi. I'm done with it all.” 

Rey scoffed, lowering her blade a few centimeters. "So nothing's changed then." She shook her head. "I thought you would have learned that we can't ignore the past."

"No," Ben said, taking another step and wincing. "I'm not talking of a new order anymore. That chance is gone."

Rey narrowed her eyes. He was just as cryptic and sincere as always and it frustrated her. "What do you mean?"

Another ambitious wave broke against the edge, sending up a spray of salty water that spattered over them. Ben wiped a hand over his face, pushing back his hair and revealing a series of vibrant bruises over his cheekbone and temple. 

"I want you to come with me, Rey. We can get away, escape from this fight that others have made for us. We don't have to be opposites."

"Kylo," she snapped. She saw the pain at hearing his old name from her echo in his eyes but she pushed on, frustration coloring her tone. "I can't leave. We have too much responsibility to simply run away."

A look crossed his face, flashing in his eyes and tugging on his mouth before he repressed it. 

"Tell me," Rey demanded, tired of his reticence. 

He glared, but not from anger and not at her. It was the last of his defenses rallying before he gave in to her. 

"I've lost the First Order."He looked away, his jaw clenched. "The Knights have scattered."

Rey looked closer then, beyond how soaked his garments were. They were also dirty and torn in a way that she'd never seen Usually his clothing was made of quality fabric with barely a thread out of place. Now, he looked like he'd been dragged behind a boga up a cliff. His skin, already paler than anyone Rey had seen on Jakku, was almost translucent, with deep circles under his eyes. 

Rey lowered the lightsaber to her side. "What do you mean?"

He took another step, pleading. "I need you to come with me, Rey. Just - please."

Rey scoffed to cover her pain. She hadn't felt so alone in a long time. "So nothing's changed."

Ben's eyes flickered in confusion. "What hasn't changed?"

"You!" she exclaimed. "You haven't changed at all."

"I -"

"This year I've learned so much about the Force, about me, about my place in all this." She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the stormy sky and crumbling wreckage and unsettled sea, and Ben jolted away from the ignited blade in her hand. "I'd thought that maybe you'd grown too, and that maybe this time, it would be as I'd seen when we - when we touched hands."

That quiet moment in the stone hut on Ahch-To had been the most exhilarating she had ever experienced. Rey knew she'd recognize it when that moment came, when she would help him turn. She could remember the impression of what it would feel like, like all the tumblers in the lock finally aligning to open something that had been hidden for millennia. 

That moment was not now. The Force was spastic, diseased, roiling with Dark energy. It clung to Ben, hanging over them like a specter, a malicious presence that she hadn't felt since Ben had destroyed Snoke. It made her want to turn and run away. 

"But it can be, if you join me," he insisted. "I've given it all up."

"You didn't give it up," she said, pointing at him with the saber. "You said you'd lost it. You didn't give it up if you lost control."

"Does it matter?" he hissed. 

"Yes, it does."

"Why?" he demanded. 

"This is not what I saw. This was a mistake."

"Rey -"

"No," she said, disengaging her lightsaber. His eyes burned with pain and unshed tears as she turned away to leave. 

"Rey!"

Rey felt the Force flow and constrict, and Ben used it to pull her around with a vicious twist to face him again. She reignited her weapon, a reflexive defense. Ben met her blade with his own, the two lightsabers snarling and spitting at each other. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Rey demanded. 

Ben's eyes were wide, surprised at his own boldness, reflecting the intersecting blades. “Rey -” 

She leaned on her blade, the muscles in her arms going taut, and Ben slipped back a few centimeters on the slick metal of the platform. 

“You can’t keep me here. You can’t convince me that it’s right,” Rey admonished angrily. “Now let me go!” 

“Rey. Please,” he begged. Rey saw the fear in his eyes she’d only imagined seeing twice before, although whether he was more fearful of her or of her intention to leave was uncertain. 

Rey’s brow scrunched together furiously and she shoved him back with a grunt. He stumbled away, recovering awkwardly with his bad knee, his crackling lightsaber fizzling against the metal platform. The Force was in a frenzy, still charged with Darkness, snapping and nipping at them like a rabid animal. 

Rey moved again to leave the way she came, but Ben lunged forward again, desperate. 

“Wait!” 

Rey whirled on him, her lightsaber flashing. “Don’t!” 

Ben met her attack, blocking it clumsily with his blade. 

A blade that sputtered and vanished, shorted out by the briny water and its exposed wires. 

Rey froze, staring at the deadened hilt in his hands. Then she looked at her own weapon, buried in Ben’s side. 

Abruptly, she turned it off. Ben didn’t say a word, his breath coming out in a shuddering exhale as he sank to his knees. 

“Ben?” Rey caught him as he keeled over. “Ben, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t -” 

His body shook violently, going into shock. Ben was much larger than her and now he was dead weight, so Rey tried to lower him to the ground without dropping him. Ben didn’t do anything to help, slumping over with a breathy groan. 

“Ben,” Rey repeated as she crouched over his supine body, tears gathering in her eyes. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his hand vaguely clutching at his wound. She pushed his hand away, taking in the torn and burnt flesh oozing thick blood, staining his clothing and fingers crimson. It cut through his ribs, deep enough that there was no way that she could have missed a major organ, perhaps a lung. 

“Rey,” he croaked, then coughed, spattering blood over her face. 

“Don’t talk,” she said, cupping a hand to his cheek. She could feel his life ebbing in the Force even as the Dark swelled greater than before, watching eagerly. Ben’s heart beat rapidly trying to cope with the shock, blood pulsing weakly out of his side. She gathered the end of his soaked cloak and pushed it against the wound. “I can call a med-evac. Just, don’t move.” Rey used her other hand to fiddle with the binary beacon, finding to her relief that it had reestablished the connection. “Just hold on, please.” 

“Rey,” he repeated. 

She looked back at his face to see his eyes were cloudy, losing focus even as he struggled to meet hers. His blood-stained hand fumbled across his torso and she grabbed it with her free hand, gripping it fiercely, attempting to anchor him. Her vision blurred with tears. 

“I’m so sorry, Ben,” she sobbed. “This wasn’t - I don’t - I didn’t -” 

“You,” he mumbled through thick lips. His throat bobbed as he tried again. “You set me... free. Of this pain.” Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth and tears ran down his cheeks. “Thank... you.” 

“No, Ben. No, no, no.” The feel of his life slipping away in the Force was more terrifying than the sight of the light in his eyes fading. 

~---~ 

Ben opened his eyes. 

Or maybe he didn’t. 

It was odd, as though he’d never shut them and the light was turned back on. Or like he had closed his eyelids and he could now see through them. 

Either way, he could see now. He just hadn’t been looking before. 

He was lying on his back staring up at a pale blue sky, unbroken by clouds. The ground was soft beneath him and there was a sound of gentle waves nearby. 

How long had he been there? He couldn’t remember when he’d arrived or when he’d laid down. It could have been minutes or hours, but it felt peaceful with the sun warm on his skin. 

Kriff, he probably had gotten sunburn. It didn’t take more than a quarter hour for him to burn on cloudy days. Ben sat up quickly, checking his arms and legs for the telltale pinking that meant he would be crispy and red for the next few days. 

“You won’t sunburn here.” 

Ben looked up, startled, to see a man with shoulder-length brown hair and nondescript robes standing a few meters away, closer to the water. 

“Where am I?” Ben demanded. “And who are you?” 

“Do you not recognize this place?” 

Ben wasn’t willing to indulge this man’s game. “Answer me or leave me be.” 

The man smirked. “Despite what you think, I don’t have all the answers.” 

Ben stared. “I don’t know you.” 

“You do.” He offered a hand that Ben ignored as he stood to his feet. The man didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, so Ben took a moment to examine his surroundings more thoroughly. The smooth waves lapped softly against a gray pebble beach that extended for several clicks around the circumference of the turquoise lake. Behind him, hills rose in gentle swells rippling with flaxen grasses that ended against the clear expanse of sky. 

“Is this Chandrila?” Ben asked, flipping through his mental catalogue of worlds he’d visited before. 

The man chuckled. “No, although I suppose its temperate region is comparable. You’re on Naboo.” 

“Naboo?” Ben frowned. He knew of the planet, of course – he knew his galactic history – but he couldn’t remember ever visiting, or having a reason to for that matter. “How did I get here?” 

“You don’t remember?” 

Ben was about to ask what he didn’t remember when agony exploded in his side, and he collapsed on the ground with a loud groan. 

Then just as quickly, the pain was gone, leaving him panting and bewildered. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, blinking to clear the tears from his eyes. 

“What - what was that?” 

“I guess I need to explain,” the man said. “This isn’t really Naboo. And you’re dying, Ben.” 

Ben stared. “What?” 

“You're dying.” 

Ben’s side twinged again. He gasped as it came back to him in a rush. 

The Resistance’s trap. Humiliation. 

Hux’s coup. Betrayal. 

His escape. Fear. 

Finding Rey. Confusion. 

Their argument. Despair. 

His lightsaber betraying him like everyone else, allowing Rey to plunge her weapon into his gut. Or maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was the choice of his subconscious to just end his misery. 

Either way, he was dying now. 

“Ben?” 

Ben focused his attention back on the man, who looked down with a wrinkled brow. 

“It’s alright. You don’t need to worry.” 

For the first time, Ben really looked at the man, who despite what seemed like his better judgement gave a bemused smile at Ben’s confusion. 

“Who the kriff are you?” Ben demanded again. 

He flashed a sheepish grin. “I’m your grandfather.” 

Ben froze. 

“I never met Leia – er, your mother.” A pained look passed over Anakin’s face. “I mean, I did. But it wasn’t what it should have been.” 

Ben got to his feet stiffly, the ghost of the ache in his side forgotten in the face of his ancestor’s appearance. Distantly, he was surprised that he didn’t doubt the man’s claim at all. 

“I wish I had met you sooner, in a better way,” Anakin said quietly. 

“You,” Ben sputtered, recovering his voice, “you ruined my life.” 

Anakin winced. “I know.” 

Ben turned and walked away. 

“You can’t blame me for everything,” Anakin called after him. 

Ben stomped back and glared at his grandfather. “Your actions lead directly to what happened to me.” 

“Do you really believe that?” 

Ben’s eye twitched. 

Anakin sighed. “Apparently. That's unfortunate.” 

“Why now?” Ben demanded. “Now that I’m dead – dying – why do you come to me?” 

“Because you might actually listen to me now.” Anakin grinned. “After all, we have eternity.” 

“No,” Ben fumed. “I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me –” 

“Clearly,” Anakin said, clasping his hands behind his back in a posture that reminded Ben of Luke in an infuriating way. Anakin read his irritation and sighed. “Just ask me a question.” 

Ben studied him for a moment. “Why did you never answer me before?” 

A gust of wind burst from behind Anakin, picking up pebbles from the beach and spattering them over Ben. He threw up his hands to protect his face from the sudden onslaught with a shout of surprise. 

It stopped, and when he lowered his hands, he was somewhere he knew immediately, the scent of the stale, recycled air and the subdued lighting in the small chamber. 

The dead giveaway of his location, of course, was the melted and warped mask on the stand in the center of the space. They were on the _ Finalizer. _

Anakin watched Ben, his body turned away from the shrine that Ben – Kylo – had created to invoke his grandfather once upon a time. 

“Honestly, I didn’t want to answer you. I didn’t want to talk to you with that thing between us,” Anakin said. 

Ben looked from Vader’s mask to Anakin’s face and clenched his fists. “I wanted –” 

“I know what you wanted,” Anakin interrupted, “but that thing symbolizes my biggest mistake, and to see you trying to repeat it – I didn’t know what to do without making it worse.” 

“You could’ve warned me, cautioned me against the Dark. You could’ve given me advice to avoid those mistakes,” Ben accused, his fists clenching. 

Anakin frowned. “And would you have listened? Or would you have heard what you wanted to hear? How was I supposed to know?” 

Ben reached for his lightsaber, seeking to release some of his simmering frustration, but found that it wasn’t clipped to his belt. Instead, he kicked the stand with a furious roar. Anakin flinched. 

“And that justifies ignoring me?” 

“Switch off,” Anakin snapped. “I’m not some deceased fountain of wisdom that you could access whenever you didn’t know what to do.” 

“Anything!” Ben shouted, his angry words reverberating in the small room. “I was alone! I would have settled for anything from you.” 

The lights flickered and the durasteel walls groaned and shrieked before the room imploded. 

Ben blinked against the harsh sunlight and the waves of heat rising from the baked sand. The horizon shimmered, blurring the shapes of the wreckage littering the dunes. He couldn’t be sure, but there were few hot desert planets that boasted the remains of an Imperial-era battle. They were now on Jakku. 

“Why are we here?” he asked Anakin, who stood beside him. 

“We’re revisiting a memory,” he answered, scanning the barren sands with a grimace. “Trust me, this isn’t my first choice.” 

“I’ve never been on Jakku during the day,” Ben said. 

“It’s not your memory,” Anakin returned, looking behind them. Ben turned to see a sprawling collection of canopies planted next to something that probably passed as a space port with a few dingy transports sitting on the sand, and he had a sudden case of déjà vu. 

“Come back!” 

Ben jerked his head towards the source of the shriek and found the small girl struggling against the Crolute’s meaty grip. Her tiny face turned up towards the sky. Ben remembered what she saw: a quadjumper, disappearing into the sun, never to return. 

“Nooo!” 

The pale lumpy creature holding her arm yanked her away towards the settlement, her cries melting into sobs. 

“Why are we here?” Ben asked again, his voice low. He could feel the loneliness and abandonment from Rey’s memory choking him. 

“Anything I could have given you would have been tainted.” Anakin watched as the girl and her captor disappeared. “You already had preconceived ideas of who I was and what I would give you if I spoke. More than likely, all of it would have been twisted to suit your plans.” Ben opened his mouth but Anakin cut him off. “Don’t argue with me. You know you did the same with Luke.” 

“Luke was wrong,” Ben muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from spilling into his voice. 

“He wasn’t perfect,” Anakin agreed, a smile flickering across his face. “And I’m not either. But because of who everyone said we were, you expected us to be – to have all the answers. If I had come to you, you would have hated me just as much as you hated Luke.” 

“No,” Ben insisted. “You would have understood – the Light and Dark – you knew them both.” 

“And Luke didn’t?” 

“No,” Ben said firmly. “He didn’t.” 

“I may have lived in both, but I didn’t understand them,” Anakin said. “I always lived in fear of one or the other, just as you did.” 

Ben scowled at the ground. 

“You needed someone who was unencumbered by legacy or history or tradition. I couldn’t be that person. Anything from me would only perpetuate the problem.” 

Ben looked up at the tents. “Rey.” 

“Rey,” Anakin agreed. 

“Her power is grounded in the Light,” Ben sighed, remembering how it felt when they were aligned, working together. “It balances my Darkness.” 

“Hmm,” Anakin mused, getting a puckish expression that Ben was quickly growing annoyed with. “Not exactly.” 

The sunlight intensified until it was white hot, burning away the sandy landscape. 

When his eyes dilated again so he could see, Ben found they were in a snowy forest under a dark sky. He recognized the feel of the air, the hum in the Force immediately. It took a moment to find the right direction, but he walked between the trees until he could see the flash and spark of two lightsabers, sapphire and crimson, clashing together. 

It was odd to see the duel from the perspective of the outsider, especially when he could feel it as clearly as if he was living it. The haze of guilt and grief clouding his mind, the pain and lethargy in his body, the fractious tension in the Force. 

There was a shout of pain. Ben hissed, feeling the scar over his face and chest burning as if Rey’s stroke had just sliced him open. 

“Come on,” Anakin said, walking closer to the fight. 

Rey was circling him now, her teeth bared as Ben’s past self struggled on the ground, trying to get away from her. Ben shuddered with empathy, feeling the confusion and agony of that moment all over again. 

“Look at her,” Anakin said, tearing Ben from his painful remembrance. “Feel where she is in this moment.” 

Ben reoriented himself, muffling the sensations of his memory and turning his perception outward. 

“What do you feel?” Anakin prodded. 

Ben hesitated, unsure if he was mistaken. “Darkness.” 

“Yes.” 

“But, Rey – she's not a Darksider.” 

“No,” Anakin agreed. “Not like Vader, or Snoke, or even you. But right here, she was grieved by your actions, a sort of righteous indignation. She turned that into a strength, collecting it to use it as a weapon.” He shook his head. “Amazing.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Rey is something new, a different type of Force user. Someone that can channel both Light and Dark but not be owned by either one.” 

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, then tore asunder, creating the chasm that had prevented Rey from ending him that day on Starkiller Base. The scene faded away, leaving Ben and Anakin in an undefinable dimension of gray mist. 

“But she’s a Jedi,” Ben insisted. 

Anakin gave him a side-eye and muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” 

“She’s much more than that.” 

“But Rey balances my Darkness – I've felt it. I saw it, in a vision.” Ben clenched his fists, aware of where he was and who he was talking to. “And anyway, I’m dead.” 

Anakin glared at him. “Stars, you’re dense sometimes. And for Force sake, don’t get offended either. You get that from me, unfortunately.” He paused. “Although all your blood relatives are extremely stubborn, so maybe it’s a confluence of bad genes.” 

Ben waited. 

“Anyway, you should have realized by now that people do not conform to a dichotomy. They’re complex, four-dimensional beings. That was the mistake I made, that Luke made, that the Jedi and Sith have made for millennia. That’s why they all were all destroyed.” 

“Why are you giving me this revelation on the nature of the Force now, when it’s too late? I’m dead. It won't make a difference anymore.” Ben’s side twinged again, but the pain was receding. 

“But it will,” Anakin said. “You said you’d finish what I started.” 

“That was a desperate ignorant statement, as you so kindly have made apparent.” 

“Still, you weren’t wrong.” 

“I couldn’t finish things then, and I certainly can’t now,” he stated, exhaling carefully when the last tingle of pain in his abdomen vanished. Anakin watched him closely. 

“Does that mean it’s over? That the pain is gone?” Ben asked. 

The mist shivered around them, vibrating due to some impalpable cause. 

Anakin’s sheepish grin returned. “You’ve got a job to do. And it seems like your better half won’t let you get away without doing your part.” 

“My better half?” 

The mist began to thicken, billowing in from hidden places. 

“She’s just as stubborn as you are. You won’t repeat my mistakes because you’re not alone.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Goodbye, Ben.” 

The condensing fog obscured his grandfather and Ben called out, but no one answered. Soon everything was darkness. 

~---~ 

Ben heard the small sounds in the room first: the hiss of the air pumped through the ventilation system, the hum of the equipment monitoring his vitals, the breathing of the other person in the room. 

He noticed the feeling returning to his body second: the starched bedsheets under his fingertips, the weight of the blankets on his chest, the dryness of his lips. 

He licked them, trying to moisten them, but his tongue was also thick and dry. 

“Ben?” 

He struggled to open his eyes, searching for the source of that familiar voice. Stars, he loved the sound of that voice. 

“... Leia?” 

“Ben.” 

He barely had a chance to focus his sight before she was leaning over him, concern in her eyes. 

“Don’t move too much.” 

“I... Leia-” His voice cracked, rusty from disuse. 

“Do you need something to drink?” Leia moved away and Ben tried to push himself up, but his limbs didn’t respond quickly. 

“Hey, I said don’t move,” Leia ordered, adjusting the bed so that his head was partially elevated before putting a straw between his lips. Ben drank on reflex, and the cool water soothed his aching throat. When he was done, he pulled away. 

“Where am I?” he groaned. “Is this a memory?” 

“No, you’re here now.” 

He could see the tears shining in her eyes as she smiled at him. 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Ben. I didn’t think I’d see you like this before I died.” 

He scrunched his face in confusion before he remembered everything again. “Rey - she gutted me. With a lightsaber.” 

Leia’s smile faded. “I know. It was an accident – she didn’t want to hurt you.” 

“Why am I here? I was dead, or dying, the pain was gone –” 

“She healed you, Ben,” Leia said. “I’m not sure how because you should’ve died, but apparently Rey read a thing or two in the Jedi texts about healing wounds, and then we used bacta until we could get you here.” 

Ben turned his face away. “You should’ve left me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath stuttering and shallow. “I wanted it to end.” 

Leia made a small, grieved sound. “Rey couldn’t let you go. When we found you both, I thought you were gone, Rey too. She was half-dead with exhaustion and unresponsive.” 

Ben clenched his jaw. 

“Don’t you dare be angry with her,” Leia ordered, misreading his frustration. 

The tears welled up in his eyes, leaking through his eyelashes. Ben blinked, trying to push them away. He never really imagined meeting his mother again, but if he had, he wouldn’t have anticipated crying. Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, would have raged if it had been suggested. 

The door chimed before sliding open. Rey stood in the entrance to the room, her posture straightening as she met his teary gaze. He wasn’t surprised to see her; subconsciously he had known she was near. 

“You’re awake.” Her eyes darted to Leia, who smiled. 

“He just woke up,” Leia informed her, and Ben noticed the exhaustion roughing the edges of his mother’s voice. 

Rey stepped into the room, pausing a moment before coming to stand next to Leia’s seat. Ben watched her. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. “Are you in pain?” 

He was sure he was receiving something to numb the pain, but he said, “Yes.” 

Rey’s face was taut, dark smudges hollowing her eyes. She leaned forward, brushing limp hair from his forehead just as he sensed her presence in the Force brushing against his. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I feel it too, and you’re not alone.” 

He shuddered. 

“We're not finished, Ben. I need you.” 

He swallowed hard. “I’ve failed. I can’t finish this.” 

Her hand hadn’t left his face, settling on his cheek as her thumb stroked him. 

“You don’t have to because we’re doing this together, just like we saw before. Alright? Don’t give up on me.” Her eyes were firm and pleading and tired and hopeful all at once. “This is something new, and we’re going to make mistakes, but it’s okay because _we’re not alone_.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading my preachy existential one-shot. Let me know what you think in the comments and leave a kudos!
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://a-nerd-obsessed.tumblr.com)
> 
> Addendum 12/25/19: I feel like this aged really well post-TRoS. Huh.


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